


a whole new sort of resilience.

by el_em_en_oh_pee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Incest, Character Death, Disguise, F/M, Insanity, M/M, Multi, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-15
Updated: 2007-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-16 21:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_em_en_oh_pee/pseuds/el_em_en_oh_pee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone in the world has something they strive for; an end to their means. Ginny wants happiness. Percy wants to be Minister. And Ron wants sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a whole new sort of resilience.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for lj fest pimp_my_3some under pseudonym Tilly Toke

_Everyone in this world has something they strive for; an end to their means. For some, this is as simple as going home every day after work to their bathrobes and slippers and robes and radio, or maybe a chocolate chip cookie after dinner. For others, these aspirations can be as high as ultimate authority, as fame and fortune, as a name that never leaves history books. And everyone has a certain point they'll go to to achieve these things they want so much_.

  
What Ginny wanted, more than anything in the world, was -- she wasn't sure. Sometimes, she fancied that all she wanted was a pure, healthy, _lasting_ relationship -- but she'd had that, hadn't she, and look where it'd gotten her: a job she hated, wearing tight blouses and grey skirts every day, sitting behind a mahogany-and-glass desk and coral-coloured lipstick and putting the 'aesthetic front' to the Harry Potter Remembrance Fund for Wizarding Orphans during the day, and in loose-neck shirts and short skirts at night, behind a cigarette and cherry-red lipstain, performing unmentionable acts to patrons for 'a little extra, for those poor orphans'.

The ironic thing, in a very not-ironic sort of way, was the fact that if Harry'd bothered staying alive, there wouldn't be any such fund, and she'd probably be dressed in the same old robes every day, doing the same unmentionable things to Harry Potter.

Not that she particularly _minded_ doing what she did; it was the only way she could think of to keep Harry alive, and going to... whatever measures, that was okay. It was for _him_.

He was the only one who mattered.

Perhaps Ginny wanted _him_ back again? It would make sense, really. But as she adjusted the string of paste-pearls about her neck, she caught a glimpse of herself in the gilt-edged mirror on the wall: poorly concealed under-eye circles, tired curls, and (she fancied) an air of resolve about her.

She liked to think she had a singular inner strength. She knew she wouldn't have quite that, if Harry had bothered living.

  
  
**  
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**   
  


Percy adjusted his glasses. And then his tie. And then he squared off his stack of papers, took off his glasses, polished them on the hem of his shirt, and put them on again. And _then_ he had to tuck his shirt in properly again. Hunching over in front of his small mirror, he finger-combed his hair, and, licking a finger, rubbed at a spot on his nose.

Finally satisfied, he held his wand at a safe distance from his head and cast the glamour.

Percy wasn't _Percy_ anymore. He'd adopted the nickname that Fudge had given him so many years ago, Weatherby, (Frederick Weatherby, to be exact) along with an entirely new wardrobe (more expensive, less black) and visage-- of sorts. He had a new job (still in the Ministry, still focused at _being_ Minister, but being Senior Undersecretary of Internal Affairs was a step up from where he'd been as Percy Weasley. Percy Weasley, Percy was loathe to admit, wasn't nearly as successful as Frederick Weatherby)

Glamour successfully in place, Percy left his flat. Today was going to be a good day; he could sense it in his bones. (He wasn't usually one for sensing things, really, because feelings were nothing if not unreliable, but he _knew_ that today would be a good day.) He was going to leave work early to give money to the Harry Potter Remembrance Fund - the act, he thought, would both generate goodwill among those that could improve his position and improve his mood greatly (time was, he couldn't afford to donate money. Time was, he wasn't aware of the sense of completion associated with giving back to the masses).

He even whistled on his way to work.

  
  
**  
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**   
  


Ron turned over in bed, kicking the sheets that tangled around his ankles fully off of him. He smiled, hazily, at Harry. "That was brilliant, mate."

Harry smiled back "Yeah, it was, wasn't it?" He leaned over, pressed a hot kiss to Ron's shoulders.

Ron didn't ever want to get up. He was happy here, in bed, with Harry, apart from the rest of the world. He knew that when he left the bed, Harry wouldn't be there and the world would be that much closer. Ron didn't want the world close. He wanted Harry, in his bed, with nothing to take him away.

The world would take Harry away.

So Ron stayed with Harry in his bed. Day after day, night after night-- he magicked food in for the both of them, and they would eat, and have more sex. It wasn't much, but it was everything.

And they were happy.

  
  
**  
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**   
  


Percy's day had ended up a little dreary. He'd been rained on while walking to a small café for lunch, and his tie had almost stained. But it was all okay, really, because he was going to give money and feel good doing it!

As he locked up, he mentioned that he was donating to the Harry Potter Remembrance Fund for Wizarding Orphans to the Junior Senior Understudy of Internal Affairs. Malcolm winked at him. "That bird there," he said. "Does a pretty good deal, if you know what I mean."

Percy knew. He'd heard, from multiple sources, exactly how the 'girl in charge' was 'really quite persuasive'.

When he got to the office for the Fund, he was shown directly to the head office. The plaque on the door said 'Ginevra M. Weasley', and Percy was unsurprised by the momentary sinking feeling he experienced. He knocked. "Come in," his little sister said.

He went in.

  
  
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Ginny looked up from her desk when the man entered. He looked nice-- black hair, a little tall, a little thin. "Hi," she said, warmly, standing up. "I'm Ginevra Weasley. Call me Ginny, if you like." She was in her element that night, showing all of her teeth, looking as pretty as she possibly could.

"Frederick Weatherby," the man said, taking her hand and shaking it once, firmly.

Ginny frowned. Familiar name, that, but she couldn't quite place it. Reminded her of Percy, really -- but, no, Percy was dead. Perhaps one of his acquaintances, from school, that he had mentioned. "Mr. Weatherby," she murmured, sinking into her seat again and gesturing for him to do the same. "I hear you'd like to donate to the Fund."

"Yes," he said, and she got the strangest feeling that he wanted to polish his spectacles -- but he wasn't wearing any. "It's a good cause."

Ginny smiled winningly. "It is, indeed. There are some forms for you to fill out, but they aren't very difficult or time consuming, and I am, of course, here to answer any questions."

Frederick shook his head slightly and took the forms she proffered. He bent over them, scratching, and Ginny scratched her leg with one high-heel-sandaled foot. Fingering her pearls as he straightened up, she leaned forward (just enough to show a little cleavage). "So much," she murmured, glancing down at the (honestly rather small) amount. "Might I convince you to... give a little more?" She licked her lower lip, smiling slightly, and waited.

He stuttered as understanding dawned. "Oh, well, that is, erm, I suppose, I don't know... alright, I guess."

"Wear a grey suit," said Ginny.

  
  
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Percy did not want his sister to 'encourage' him at all, but he'd heard the many accounts of people she had 'encouraged'-- and people who had refused 'encouragement' of any kind-- and accepted, however unwillingly, that allowing her 'encouragement' was really the only course of action that wouldn't rouse suspicion.

They set a time. Percy knew both would be punctual.

He could only dread.

  
  
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Ron rolled over and over again, pulling Harry with him. He and Harry would be together forever. Life was fantastic. They'd never done anything, before Harry died, but Ron just _knew_ Harry had wanted him more than his sister.

Harry's death only created the opportunity. Ron hated that Harry was dead, because he didn't exist beyond Ron's bed, but Ron also loved that Harry was dead, because now they could do _this_.

  
  
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Percy almost told her not to do it, that he'd give more money without her touching him (so wrong wrong wrong), but he kept reminding himself that he wasn't Percy anymore and that he had to go through with this, had to maintain his disguise. Frederick Weatherby, Percy reminded himself, was fond of women, however much Percy wasn't. Frederick Weatherby wouldn't be averse to sleeping with Percy's sister; that aversion was Percy's only. And no-one knew that Percy was Frederick.

It was slightly disappointing, the way he had to keep reminding himself that he was Frederick. He'd been him long enough, Percy had been 'dead' long enough, that it should have been sticking long before this.

Slowly, dreading what would happen more and more with each second, he buttoned his shirt and shrugged his jacket on. He glanced in the mirror. Perfectly Frederick.

He could do this, could pretend that Ginny was Penelope, or Cedric, or someone else. Someone decidedly not his sister.

He Apparated to the alley. Ginny was waiting, wearing a skirt that almost wasn't and a _very_ low-cut shirt, loose in all the wrong places. She was made up just like harlot, and she looked...

she looked as if she were in her element.

  
  
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**   
  


Ginny grinned as Frederick Apparated into the alley. Her suspicions had been right; he was _hot_ in that grey suit. She hated her job, yes, hated sucking random strangers... but sometimes there were perks, and this was one of them. Frederick Weatherby was _gorgeous_ , the kind of man she would have liked to meet at the Leaky Cauldron, back before the war was over and she had taken on a reputation quite different than 'Harry Potter's Girlfriend'.

She was good at this. She knew this, other people knew this. She was good at fellatio, at sex, in dark alleys and remote corners, and she wasn't _ashamed_ of it. Sometimes, when she saw someone she used to know in school, someone who knew what she did nights, she would gather arrogance around her like a cloak and use her lack of shame and her knowledge that she was good like a weapon.

Sometimes she would just hide.

Frederick looked nervous. Ginny was good with nervous. She kissed him.

  
  
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Ginny was _kissing_ him, and it was _nothing_ like the chaste kisses she used to give all her brothers when they were still children. There was, there was _tongue_ and _hands_ and she was _unzipping his trousers_ and slowly sinking down and this was _not on_.

And then -- oh God! -- she had his cock out and _when_ did it get hard? He hadn't noticed, and this was _not at all on_

And she was _kissing_ his cock, and licking it, and _when_ did his baby sister learn to do this and _why_ wasn't he putting a stop to it?!

Her teeth grazed the head of his erection and he came.

  
  
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Frederick came really quite fast, compared to what Ginny was used to.

  
  
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The next day, Percy went over (again and again) what had happened, could not think of a way to have avoided it. Couldn't think of anything. Went to work dejected, and almost forgot to cast his glamour.

Upon arriving at work, he heard whispers, heard the word 'Weasley'. Had someone found him out? Were people shocked that he let his sister... his sister...

 _Oh, God_.

But when he listened to what people were saying, he didn't hear anything about _Percy_ or _Ginny_. Instead, it was all _Ron, Ron, Ron_. Ron gone mad this, Ron thinking Harry was still alive that, Ron never leaving his house, Ron _doing things_ with someone who _wasn't there_.

Percy was shocked. He wanted to go off and see Ron right then, wanted to make sure that the rumours were false (He sort of suspected that they weren't). Couldn't. Didn't. Percy was _dead_ , and Frederick Weatherby would very likely not care one iota how Ron was doing, apart from as one grateful for his involvement in the War.

There was only one solution. He had to go back to Ginny, let her know.

  
  
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Ginny was a little surprised, pleasantly so, when Frederick showed up again, the next day. He was pretty, unlike many of the people who came to donate money. "Hello!" she said, when he entered her office, a little nervously. "How can I help you?"

"Um." He scuffed his toe. "I overheard, at work -- your brother has gone mad, I've heard. I thought you should know."

"Which brother?" she asked, with just a touch of irony. "I have si-- five."

Something twinged inside Percy. "Ronald, is what people were saying."

"Oh." Ginny was surprised only by her lack of surprise. "I see. I better go, better go see him."

"That sounds like a good idea," Frederick said, trying not to seem unduly concerned. "I think--"

"Would you come with me?" Ginny asked, impetuously, because he was nice enough, and she wasn't sure that she could _face_ Ron, if he were, indeed, mad.

He thought for a minute. "Okay," he said. "Okay. If you want me to."

  
  
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When they got to Ron's, Ginny hesitated at the door. "It's just been awhile since I've seen him," she explained, ruefully.

"That's... it's been a year since I've seen any of my brothers," Percy said, truthfully.

"Thanks," she replied, smiling up at him, standing on tiptoe for a quick kiss.

Percy grimaced inwardly, but kissed her back. She smiled at him, and opened the door without knocking.

  
  
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Ron grinned when he saw Ginny come into his room. "Hey, Ginny!" he said, and then, "Oh, hi, Percy! I thought you were dead!" He chuckled as Harry pressed a kiss to his neck.

Ginny frowned at him. "Percy is dead," she affirmed. "And this is Frederick Weatherby."

"Ha!" Ron shouted. "Weatherby! Hi, Perce-- I mean, 'Frederick."

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," Frederick (who Ron was _sure_ was Percy) said.

"That's my dad!" Ron protested. "Right, Harry?" He looked around. Harry wasn't there. "Harry? Harry?!"

Ginny and Frederick-who-was-Percy exchanged a glance. "Honey, Harry's dead, too," Ginny said.

"I _know_ that," Ron said. "But he was _here_ just a second ago. He was _kissing_ me. I think you made him go away."

  
  
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Ginny was very, very worried. Harry was dead, but Ron obviously thought him still around, and he also thought that _Frederick_ was _Percy_. (She whispered Frederick an apology. "I don't mind," he told her.)

"Ron, I didn't do anything to Harry. Bellatrix Lestrange killed him."

"Yeah, but he was still _here_!" Ron protested. "I don't know. I think you and Percy should take his place."

 _It isn't PERCY_ , she wanted to say, but instead, she asked: "Take his place?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "I'm not _that_ particular about who has sex with me."

Ginny blinked. Blinked again. Ron was talking _incest_. That was, that was _deviancy_ , not just crazy-talk! "Um," she said. It might make him better-- probably not, though. She shouldn't. She couldn't!

She had no idea what to do. (Or, rather, she did: she wanted to fix Ron. That might make her a little happier. But she had no idea how to go about doing so.)

  
  
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Percy did not know how Ron knew it was him. It could just be crazy-talk, true, but somehow, he suspected not.

"Ronald," he said. "I'm not Percy."

The lie felt so foreign on his tongue. He'd never had to tell someone he wasn't, well, _himself_ before.

"Yes you are," Ron said, matter-of-factly. "Let's have sex now."

Ginny pulled Percy out of Ron's earshot. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "That he thinks you're Percy, and that... well. Do you mind, terribly? I want to do all that I can, to make him better."

Percy told himself that he minded _very_ much, but when he searched for the strong feelings he had against having sex with his sister earlier, they had evaporated. "If you insist," he said, "I would not mind."

Ginny grinned at him, kissed him soundly. "Thank you," she whispered. "Not many people would be okay with this."

Percy shifted, uncomfortable, but didn't say anything.

  
  
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Afterwards, Percy would wonder when his glamour dissolved. He would wonder what exactly Ginny had said -- he couldn't quite remember -- when she found out.

He would wonder when he had forgotten about the Ministry. (It wasn't for very _long_ , mind, but it had happened, for the first time in _years_ )

  
  
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Ginny was surprised only by her lack of surprise at finding out that Frederick was actually Percy. She was a little startled at the contentment she felt after, but not very.

  
  
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Ron, of course, just said, "Hey, that was fun! Let's do it more often," and watched as Harry looked on from the sidelines.

Watched as Harry turned around and walked away.


End file.
